


The Fourth Cloverleaf

by viixiie



Category: Pitch Perfect, Pitch Perfect 2 - Fandom
Genre: AU, Barrel racing, Equestrian, F/F, Gen, Spinoff, becommissar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-12 01:25:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4459913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viixiie/pseuds/viixiie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chloe introduces the girls to horseback riding to relax, but when Benji's brother (he had a brother???????) takes her to her first rodeo, she's hooked.<br/>Little does she know, she's not the only one with multiple hobbies, and one small, unsuspecting competition leaves her with some refreshed memories of the faces of her 'friends' from Deutschland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Long Time, No See

**Author's Note:**

> This may get a little lengthy, because I never know what to skip in horse show stuff but to non equestrians (hell, even to euestrians) it can probably seem a little repetitive. First chapter or so may be a bit slow- as will I, as I only have a computer every other week. Hopefully posting it here will motivate me to write more!!  
> PLEASE leave criticism!<3
> 
> Also, the name is a play on barrel racing, as the pattern is called a cloverleaf. There's not really much else to do with clovers.

Chloe thought teaching the girls about her “favorite method of getting away” after graduation was a smart idea.

After Jessica fell off (twice), Emily and Cynthia both got stepped on, and Fat Amy brought back some rather sour memories by tearing her pants, it was pretty obvious that the Bellas were definitely a cappella singers and not equestrians.

But Beca took to it fairly well, as she’d ridden a bit as a child, and after the hoof incident Emily came to enjoy the peaceful rides as well. For a while, the three would go out on the long trails on Chloe’s new property and ride, sometimes for hours- Chloe on Tenor, Beca on Ros, and Emily on Talla- until Benji dropped a hint to Emily that his brother (the brother no one, not even his roommate and leader of four years knew about) was going to be in a rodeo and had invited (begged) him to bring people.

Beca had been born and raised in the city, amidst city folk. The closest she’d come to country was Chloe’s little herd- and the loud redneck at Barden, but he got booted for something involving alcohol and a goat, so she’d disregarded that experience fairly quickly.

But the rodeo opened some new doors. Upon arriving, she promptly learned two things: one, Ros had once been a professional barrel horse; and two, the pounding bass, high speed, major thrill, and roaring crowds of the rodeo was almost as good as the pride of blaring an original mix on the radio.

“He’s as good as yours, Bec,” Chloe had said with a wide grin when Beca had brought up wanting to learn to up her speed. “There’s another trail we can take that’s a bit shorter, but it’s perfect for running out if you want to practice some speed.”

So she did. And damn, could Ros run. She almost fell off the first time he kicked out his stride and took off. But the adrenaline rush was definitely worth it.

 

Three months of almost constant practice and training later, and Beca was throwing a fancy new saddle pad up onto the shining, muscular back of the perky gelding. He looked around the property with a gleam in his eye. “He knows,” Chloe said excitedly, patting his shoulder. “I’m so glad he found you.”

“I’m glad I found all of this,” Beca mused with a smile. Her heart soared when she saw a glistening paint trot by. The show was a mix of performance and gaming- not rodeo, but better, Beca figured, because there were more chances to show off pattern work, and less cowboys.

She hated cowboys.

“Excuse me, do you know where we go to register?”

The accent was like a slap to the face, and fear turned Beca ghost white as she turned, only to see what was just a slightly familiar face- a shorter girl, with a pixie-like face and supershort hair. She’d been at Worlds, but she wasn’t threatening, and her slightly jittery face showed no recognition. Safe.

“Take a right just inside the main door, head up the stairs,” Beca rushed out. “Gorgeous Morgan, by the way. Good luck today!” The girl just nodded and pulled her dark bay mare into a brisk trot behind her as she ran towards the barn.

“You’re an adult, so your class is first up after the showmanship. You’ve got about twenty minutes now until they’re due for first call. You should warm up.” Chloe snapped her back to reality as she came to smooth down her jacket and offer her yet another excited grin. “You look flawless, he looks flawless, you’re gonna crush it. And Emily, Stacie, Lily, and Amy said they’d be here, too.  This is only your second show. You’re gonna do great!” She offered air kisses that were far too energetic for nine A.M. and went about putting away brushes and Ros’s blanket while shooing Beca toward the ring.

 

Beca held back the rather proud Quarter horse beneath her, blue ribbon clasped like precious cargo between her teeth, though the smile she wore behind it was fully visible.

A girl congratulated her as she came out into the warm up area; she recognized her by her horse as the Reserve Champion of the class. Returning the gesture, Beca made her way back towards an open space at the back of the ring, on the opposite side of the one her class’s Grand Champion stood.

The rider was clearly tall, and with an equally lengthy horse, she was definitely intimidating. Her face was down as she was readjusting her mare’s reins, but as Beca rode up she flicked her chin upward just slightly; not nearly long enough for Beca to make out any of her features but a sudden and unexplained smile as her horse suddenly flowed from a standstill to a canter and began to glide effortlessly around the ring.

Beca had every age group to wait on until the pleasure class, where she’d be judged on her horse and how good of a ride he seemed to be, rather than her posture and riding ability. She just hoped Ros wouldn’t pick up any wrong leads in this class.

 

Time flew by. Beca used the ten minutes before her third call to warm up again and make sure the excitable grullo didn’t get too hot beforehand. When class 16 was called in at a trot, he held his head low and moved with long, smooth strides, and Beca felt herself relax.

 _Sing,_ she thought to herself. Singing regulated her breathing and calmed them both down. Moving her lips as little as possible so as not to receive unwanted attention from the judges,  she started softly mumbling My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark by Fall Out Boy. Almost instantly both herself and Ros relaxed, until that familiar dark head came up beside them.

The Grand from pleasure. Her mare kept up an almost floating stride, her dark eyes sweeping up and locking with Beca’s as she moved by. A low, amused “good song” came from the rider just before the announcers cued the riders to canter, and instantly they were gone into a beautiful rolling gait.

They placed almost identically to the last class, except for a few swaps in the lower ranks and a tall, angular-faced man taking the place of the elflike girl who was Reserve before after her horse spooked at a siren on the highway outside.

Beca now had a half hour break while the simple dressage class went, and then about 25 minutes to change herself and Ros into Western attire. She was excited; English was fun, but it was so proper. She liked the comfort and natural nature of Western riding.

Tying Ros on a loose lead, she removed his saddle and her jacket and hauled over his hay net and water bucket, patting his shining neck and going up to watch the rest of the riders and locate the visiting Bellas.

 

Congratulations were in abundance when she made her way into the stands. The Bellas smothered her in hugs and carefully quiet cheers so as not to scare the muscular black mare expertly dancing through her pattern in the arena- the Reserve from pleasure, Beca noticed. The pair finished flawlessly and high-fived the next competitor as they entered.

“Her!” Beca exclaimed. “She’s been beating me out all day and I can never see her face, it’s infuriating!”

“She’s German,” Emily said with a mix of excitement and uncertainty on her youthful face. “I think the announcers have been calling her Luisa. We haven’t seen her face, either.”

“There’s a lot of German riders here,” Chloe noted with a touch of worry, as if Worlds was suddenly upon them again like a rabid dog.

“Some riders from a big team in Germany came up to retire to smaller shows, according to my cousin in Munich. She said at least, like, six were graduated DSM members.” Stacie shrugged and turned her attention back to her already pristine nails. Beca simply nodded with a new wash of nerves. Watching the perfection in the arena as the Grand- Luisa- performed a one-tempes canter to a solid stop in the very center of the ring was no help, so Beca was quick to excuse herself to get an early start on warming up.

She’d just removed Ros’s halter to slip on his bridle when he suddenly wrenched his head back at a sudden shrill whinny and spun on his haunches into the lot.

_ShitshitshitshitSHIT SHIT._

“Loose horse!!” Beca screamed, but rounding the trailer she found a sight she’d never expected to see.

Muscles rippled under a dark coat as a horse made fast, careful movements, her rider equipped with nothing but leg strength and a lunge rope that she swung expertly around her head. Her horse moved in time with Ros; all the girl had to do was stay on her back, and she seemed to do so effortlessly.

In no time the rope swung securely around Ros’s neck and he finally slowed to a panting stop. The wild rider slid off her mare’s back, striding over to Ros on long legs. She looked like a deer. Or maybe a goddess.

 _“Einfache, junge,”_ she cooed softly, smiling as Ros lowered his head and gently butted against her chest. That voice was deep, husky, and all too familiar. Realization hit her like a brick.

Beca’s heart dropped into her stomach.

“Luisa.”

The Kommissar turned her head, a wide grin spreading over perfect lips and oh, lord, just when Beca thought she was free from those smokey blue eyes and beautiful face, here she is again. Ros turned in and walked up to her as if he knew she needed the support.

 _“Lange nicht gesehen,_ Feisty Maus. Did you miss me?”


	2. White Lace and Missed Cues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca really needs to learn to focus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really short, I'm realizing now. Later chapters will be longer, I'll have 3 and possibly? Maaayybeeeee???? 4????????????? up tonight and from there.. I don't know, honestly. Stay on me. Ride my ass for this. Don't let me slack off. <3

Beca had every intention of just thanking Kom- Luisa- and making her way away, but even when the tall woman seemed to dismiss her, Beca found hoofbeats and boots scuffing along after her. She gripped the rope that held her gelding until her knuckles turned white, determined to be the World Champion Bella she SHOULD have been the last time they’d met, and not the drunken mess that she could only remember being taken back to the room of the Kommissar after the “friendship dinner” Luisa had so quickly arranged after the Bellas’ win.

Ironically, only Jesse knew that Beca would likely have to be in a medically-induced coma to forget a night so-

“I wasn’t aware you were such a skilled rider,” Luisa said suddenly, that smirk still playing on her lips as she stood unnecessarily close to the smaller girl, practically pinning her to the shiny silver trailer. She made a small squeak of protest, not that she actually minded.

And if the ever-growing, shit-eating grin was anything to go by, Luisa was aware of the façade.

“There’s a lot of things you miss when you live in Germany,” Beca pushed out weakly, forcing herself to be occupied in finally bridling her gelding. “Isn’t there anything else you could be doing? Riding around? Kicking ass? Winning every beauty pageant in the world, maybe?” She smacked her head as Luisa allowed her a knowing chuckle. “No, you know what? I hate you.”

“That’s not what you said-“

“What I said then isn’t relevant! Don’t use that here!”

A hand softer than kitten butts brushed her cheek in a gesture that was right on the border of loving and mocking, and Beca was glad she felt scapegoat-y enough to pull away from the Divine Being’s caress.

“Ever so feisty, are we, Mäuschen? You’ll be sure to use that.. _Was ist das wort…_ Spirit, to actually be of some competition to me later, ja?” She offered a final smirk, and with no struggle vaulted onto her tall mare’s back from the ground. Beca had to fight to not gape at her; it was over a 15 hand jump, as the mare was taller than Ros, and Beca could barely mount her own horse with a saddle.

“Sonje. _Vorankommen_.” Luisa waved as she passed at a brisk trot, posting bareback with ease and leaving Beca attacked by a mix of indistinguishable emotions.

“Damn her,” she snapped as she replaced Ros’s halter to jump into the trailer and change out of the heavy jodhpurs and tall black boots she wore for English and into fitted dark jeans and a baby pink button-down with a white lace back. Just for a bit of an upper hand, she opted out of the grey tank top she’d brought along for modesty purposes.

Cooler and definitely more in her zone, she hopped back out of the trailer, tightened Ros’s cinch, and removed the halter, holding his reins as she slipped a foot into the stirrup and swung up onto his broad back.

The smooth curb must have sat more naturally in his mouth, because the pranciness of the earlier morning was gone and he jogged beautifully the whole way to the ring. By this time, her class was at first call. Secretly, she was glad for Luisa’s impressive ability. She’d probably have been late if she had to chase Ros down on foot.

Third call came before she knew it, and she left her warm up with a smile at how nice Ros was behaving now. She had this.

 

“She does everything!!”

Chloe patted Beca’s back as they sat in foldup chairs beside the trailer, munching on various snacks the Bellas had all brought along. They muttered reassurances toward their anxious friend, but they went in one ear and out the other.

Beca had been so confident! Ros was at the top of his game. But when she entered the ring, she found herself followed yet again by Tall Blonde and Gorgeous, and her mare that had gone from soaring strides to slow, beautiful motion that barely even touched the Kommissar. Her ability to shift from a light presence in the saddle to sitting relaxed and deep in the blink of an eye was astonishing, and Beca tightened the grip on her reins until her hands grew stiff and discomfort roused her.

 _Focus, Beca. No wonder you keep losing._ What was it Amy’d always suggested? _Just imagine her in her underwear!_

…

_Shit no SHIT. DAMMIT. ABORT. Do NOT use that plan!! NEVER use that plan!_

Beca made herself suffer a delayed transition, missing the judge calling for a lope until she saw Luisa- smirking, of-fucking-course- glide past her. She swore under her breath and thanked the gods above for Ros’s quick and flawless transitions, and hoped the judges would commend a pretty Quarter horse in a stock class over Luisa’s fancy German breed.

No such luck.

The literal goddess took Grand, what a shock. The smaller brunette knew it was her own fault. “We could have had that, bud,” she whispered sadly, patting Ros’s neck. “Sorry.”

“Maus,” that voice called out, and Beca let out a quick exhale. “You look quite nice in pastels. I do like the lace as well.” She grinned coyly and trotted away. Beca wanted to scream.

“Of course you do, you goddamn queen,” Beca mumbled, but the quickly-flashed grin told her she wasn’t as quiet as she’d hoped.

The red-faced Bella left the arena at a brisk trot, deciding to remain at her trailer until the bareback class.

 

Where she was once again beaten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was ist das wort- What is the word?  
> Vorankommen- Move.


	3. And The Henchman, Too?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pieter's nerdy as ever. But what history does he know?

_Damn her and her unholy thighs!_ Beca screeched in her head- that is, until ‘unholy’ and ‘thighs’ started dancing around her cursed, gay little mind, and it took Ros giving a massive shake that almost landed her in the dirt for her to snap back to reality.

“ _Ihnen haben Ihren kopf verloren, seltsamen amerikanischen Mädchen._ “

The brunette startled and whipped around in her saddle to find one of the last people she’d ever expect to see.

“Pieter?”

“Ja. You are Feisty Maus, nein?”

“Tiny- no. Yes? I’m Beca. Once-leader of the Bellas. The Kicker of Ass.” She smiled smugly for a few moments of silence, then slumped forward. “When did I become Feisty?”

Pieter simply smirked, so irritatingly like Luisa with his superiority complex and yet so.. Doofy. He didn’t strike Beca as intimidating, perhaps other than the fact that he was enormous. He was nowhere near as cunning as the Kommissar.

_Beca!_

“You think of her often. Even now. Why?”

 _Even YOU aren’t that naïve. She’s fucking gorgeous. Of COURSE I think about her._ “Who are we speaking of, exactly? I think about a lot of ‘her’s, I’ll have you know. Kinda the leader of an all-girls a cappella group. The one that beat you,” she threw in for good measure. _Crushed it._

“Niedlich. Mein Kommissar.”

And Lord have mercy, did the unnecessary claim make Beca’s hackles rise. Luisa wasn’t at all close to hers to claim. For all she knew, her and Pieter were dating. Engaged. Married, even. She had no idea what the marriage laws were in Germany.

“I can see it. So can half of DSM, or those that have travelled with us. The three that are staying here in America find it quite amusing.” Pieter’s horse, an unnecessarily muscular silvery-grey Thoroughbred, stomped a restless hoof and briefly broke Pieter’s smug taunts, and Beca felt a second of glory.

“And who might that be?”

“Emmerich and myself.”

“Das ist zwei,” Beca retorted in a horrible mocking of his heavy accent, holding up two fingers.

“… and Luisa.”

 

Pieter’s taunting had actually eventually melted into almost a pep talk. After the initial “you’re so obvious it’s pathetic” game, he ended up letting her on that Luisa, at least, did quite enjoy their games. Beca knew this of course, after…

But Pieter didn’t know that.

Right?

She’d dodged her and Luisa’s very (too) brief history, until Pieter went to leave and chose “There happens to be a Dave and Buster’s a few miles East” as his parting words that Beca remembered.

_He was there! Luisa would have told him anyway, but.. He made BETS over us!_

Bets he lost of course, but it was still infuriating to see him acting like this was some new detail. What would he even do it for?

Unless..

“Does this mean she’s into me? Is he telling me she’s still down for.. whatever that was? More? Something else entirely? Lieber Gott, warum ist das sehr schwer??” Her mumbling became a quiet exclamation as she pushed Ros into an extended walk and headed to the trailer to rest for lunch.

She never noticed her slip into German- a lucky phrase she found herself saying a lot while studying the language in class- or the sneaky blonde eavesdropper lurking in the back of the arena, grinning ear-to-ear with her eyes darkened just slightly by her native language coming from her Maus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ihnen haben Ihren kopf verloren, seltsamen amerikanischen Mädchen.- You have lost your head, strange American girl.  
> Niedlich- Cute.  
> Mein Kommissar- My Commissioner (alternatively, my Commander)  
> Das ist zwei- That is two.  
> Lieber Gott, warum ist das seh schwer?- Dear God, why is this so hard?


	4. A Brief History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and the Kommissar knew more about each other than they thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear lord, I am so sorry!! I had noooo motivation, so here I am on my tablet kicking myself in the ass.

The car show wasn't Beca's first meeting with the Kommissar.

It was her second.

Her first was a summer camp in Germany- before the shit with her parents was finalized, they sent her to visit her grandparents for some peace. But her grandparents had had other plans, and quite promptly left her at a bus stop and on her way to some music camp whose name she couldn't read, let alone pronounce.

She felt like an odd one out, as Americans didn't often travel to the small two week event. She spent the first couple hours just sitting on a log, until Tall and Taller came over and started up conversation. 

They were fast friends, from Luisa (who was Kommissar even then, but also Katze) being assigned as her roommate as well as Ari and Nixie, both from DSM, and also picking up her CDs and headphones when she tripped over a tree root on her way to the cabin, to Pieter unashamedly accepting the nickname of Giraffe and starting endless jokes. The first night she joined them in sneaking out to ride horses with Luisa, which was the first time Beca had ever ridden. 

It was also the most she had ever seen one woman blush.

She was fairly open with herself then, and she was still sad to think back on how their early morning cuddles, late night kitchen break-ins, and end-of-camp duet to finally end Luisa's stage fright never amounted to anything more. She'd gotten the pet names of Schnecke, Liebling, and Schöne. No one else used them.

They lost touch, despite Beca trading her email and number for Luisa's 'Kommissar' jersey, and Beca tried to forget it under the assumption that the Germans no longer wanted anything to do with her. 

Fast forward from freshman year of Highschool to senior year of college, and suddenly DSM is back, taller and in full makeup. Their accents and demeanors had changed, and Beca didn't recognize them for a second. In fact, only Pieter had the thought that it was her; Emmerich and Ari, and even Luisa, had no idea.

It wasn't until the Bellas had returned to pack up their house before graduation and the Worlds that Beca found the box she'd had stashed under her bed full of childhood memories- jersey included.

And of course she so happened to find it with Chloe, who had heard the name used by Pieter at the Riff Off.

Fast forward once more to Worlds, where Beca was forced by Chloe to go and return the jersey in what was later revealed as an attempt to rebuild a great bond, and despite the anxiety it caused to go to Kommissar's room, the near sob she let out at the sight of the brunette was beyond worth it.

Turns out, Luisa's services had not been set up for long distance as Pieter had promised, so none of the messages she'd been sending had been received. The singers sat in her room for hours before Luisa invited her old friend out with their teams to use their Riff Off prize.

Games and arcade food were great.

They were greater when accented by a bathroom make out session, which was what both women had been pining for since the first couple of nights at camp.

Simply put, Beca left Copenhagen feeling very much satisfied, in more ways than one, and Stacie, at least, was quite proud.

 

Why she hadn't recognized Luisa was still a mystery. She figured she'd grown so used to calling her Kommissar to remember the name alone. But they'd grown a bit distant with touring and work and starting new lives, and it wasn't surprising that Luisa hadn't alerted her to her presence in the States.

She'd find out why later, as well as how long she'd have the gorgeous blonde for.

But for now, she took deep breaths and tried to clear her head. It was first call for pole bending, and dammit, she wasn't going down without a fight.


	5. A Run For Her Money

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca's struggling with Luisa and her time is almost out.

"Its her, guys. It's Kommissar." Beca pulled her helmet off after placing- surprise- second in International Flag. She'd turned too tight to try and save time and Ros had stumbled.

So Ari, Pieter, and Luisa had beat her. Emmerich would have, too, had he not been on a novice horse that liked to run into the course. 

Any other day it would have reminded her of that first day of camp. Luisa and Ari still had Sonje and Cord, though Cord had grown and been gelded. She remembered how little she knew back then and smiled despite everything. Luisa had climbed onto Aren with her and showed her what to do, then took over and showed her how to canter.

It had been so freeing, just running out. It wasn't fast at all, but that hadn't mattered.

Beca sighed. Luisa surely hadn't lost her speed, neither had Ari. She was doomed. But fuck if she wasn't going to give it everything she had. Barrel racing was what Ros was born for, literally. His entire lineage was built up of famous racers and cow horses, multi-million dollar stallions. 

"You got this, Beca," Amy affirmed, stomping her foot as if cementing her belief into reality. "And if you don't, make sure you get some. Then you're not really losing."

Cynthia and Stacie both nodded, and Beca rolled her eyes. "You guys are pathetic. But I love you." She hugged them all as the first call for barrels came up over the intercom. 

"I guess we're off. Wish me luck. Pray for me. Sacrifice someone, maybe. I offer up Sheila."

The Bellas laughed a bit awkwardly at the insinuation that they were meant to sacrifice Beca's stepmother, but nodded along all the same, and that's what mattered.

 

Beca's name rang out, and she took a deep breath as she entered the arena, turning Ros's back to the barrels. She thought about her day- her disappointment at losing mixed with her joy at finally seeing the Kommissar again; her friends rooting for her in the stands. She thought about camp, and all the times she should have made a move and hadn't, all the missed opportunities. Mostly, though, her mind raced with images of a younger Luisa, racing the barrels in nothing but a bridle. The balance, the strength, the speed. She hadn't understood it then, why the simple triangle race was such a big deal, but she could admire the skill.

Now she understood.

It was as if she merely thought about turning Ros and he was gone, practically flying. She pressed herself over his neck, sitting back deep around her turns. They were amazing, and she knew that somewhere in the back of her mind. But her brain fired thought after thought at incomprehensible speeds; look, sit, push, breathe, balance, look! Look!

She heard all of it and none of it all at once, her muscles so trained for the sport that it was white noise. Ros seemed to go faster every stride, and as they made their last turn she gave it her all, pulling herself as far out of the saddle as she could and pushing him faster with her legs. The crowd was screaming.

Only when his feet breached the white line of the box did she slide back with a breathless "woah", and she felt the powerful gelding tuck his haunches underneath himself and slide to a stop. They were both breathing heavy and her heart roared so loudly in her ears that she couldn't hear her time. She only knew it was fast, definitely her record.

 

The placings were called what felt like an eternity later. Her heart raced as they were listed off. They got to first and and she had yet to hear her name. 

So she was either-

"Your reserve champion is.. Luisa on Sonje!"

Beca felt her blood run cold. Could she have actually..?

They called her name as the grand champion, and she fell over Ros's neck, showering him in praise and scratches as she trotted in to collect her ribbon. It was one grand, inconsequential, but she was ecstatic. Finally.

The Bellas met her on her way to her trailer, which was odd, but she greeted their overexcited praise with loving smiles all the same- until they came up to her trailer and her old teammates shot off like field mice and seemed to dissipate in the quickly-deepening shadows of evening.

Soon enough, she saw why.

The Literal Goddess leaned against Beca's trailer with a grin, and not an arrogant or predatory one either, but a warm one that caught the small brunette by surprise.

"It only took you all day," Luisa teased lightly, though her voice was affectionate. Beca still rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, well, I did it, so.."

Luisa stopped her from untacking her horse by stepping forward and trailing light fingers down Beca's arm, almost reminisciently.

"I am more than proud of you, mein schöne," she murmured softly, and oh God, she looked so... Vulnerable? It wasn't a face Beca had seen on the woman since they were shy and clumsy freshmen in Germany and it did weird things to her stomach. The old pet name didn't help, though after all this time she had no idea what it meant.

"I'm staying here," Luisa blurted suddenly. "In America. I brought a few with me, but Emmerich, Pieter, and myself are.. We're staying here."

"That's.. Wow, for how long?" Beca questioned as she quickly busied herself with pulling the saddle off her sweaty gelding.

"Ähm.. Forever, possibly. We've spent the last week moving in to a house about twenty minutes away."

Beca froze. After all this time... Luisa was here. In America. Permanently. 

Her life just got a lot more interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mein schöne- My beautiful


	6. Re-Aligned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest I completely spaced on this, I won't even deny that.  
> I am trash.  
> And I am sorry.  
> But I got a little farther in Borgen in that time, so, hey.. shut up.  
> Yes, Luisa's number has no area code. I don't have any idea what kind of people are reading this, and I was too lazy to find a random phone number that wouldn't lead someone to some kind of creepy dudebro or government agency should one of you creampuffs choose to use it. So, yes, it's mine. My area code is not an Atlanta one so I just left it out. I figure at worst I may end up with some rude losers, at best, new friends to scream over lesbians with. And no strangers with weird texts.

Beca found herself jumpy and distracted as she pulled off Ros's tack and emptied his water bucket over his sweaty back to cool him off a bit more before they left. She kept wringing her hands, and after the Bellas, with the exception of Emily, had left, Chloe had to keep reminding her of things or she'd completely forget. Like retying Ros's lead to the trailer after she walked him around to loosen his muscles.

"What's gotten into you, Becs?" Chloe inquired worriedly, her brow furrowed. She studied Beca as if she were being graded. It was unnerving.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

Chloe's arm-crossing was barely seen in Beca's peripheal, and the brunette's eyeroll thankfully went unnoticed in return. "Is this about that schöne Deutsche?"

"The  _what??"_

"The pretty German. Luisa? Kommissar? Hello? Childhood friend-turned-biggest rival-turned-lady crush from hell? Yeah, we haven't forgotten." Her eyebrow raised like a pending death sentence, though her tone was calm if not playful. 

"You're gonna start on about that again?" Beca groaned, wrapping shipping boots around her gelding's legs. "Really? Here?"

"I'm not starting on about anything, you lovestruck yearling." Chloe grinned at Beca's disbelieving nod. "But she is."

"What?"

Chloe was gone when Beca turned back around, presumably in the truck already, and the brunette let out a lengthy sigh. She made quick work of clearing up the last of her things and then leading the tired gelding into the trailer. When he was secured, she hopped out and swung the heavy door closed, brushing her hair out of her face and heading up to the passenger side of the truck.

"What did you mean, 'she is'?" Beca demanded as soon as her seatbelt was on. Chloe's usually cute giggle was infuriating at best now. Luisa- it was STILL weird to call her that- had spent all day either avoiding her or purposefully messing with her, and suddenly, after all this time, she was living in America? Five minutes from Beca's apartment? 

And suddenly, here's best-friend-turned-traitor, apparently, Chloe Liza Beale, knowing something about this infuriatingly perfect woman that Beca didn't. And withholding said something.

"She left something for you with Amy, via Pieter," Chloe said with a smug- smug? Really?- grin. "A little note. I haven't read it, because I'm your best friend and I care." She smiled genuinely at Beca, which just caused the younger Bella to roll her eyes once more, despite being legitimately appreciative.

"But Amy did, and then she showed everyone else, and they all wolf-whistled for a good minute and I'm pretty sure some of them were exchanging money, so I guess it's good." 

Beca's groan filled the cab, and she snatched the note hastily from Chloe's hand as they pulled into the redhead's driveway. Stuffing it into her pocket for later, she jumped out of the truck to fetch her horse and lead him back to his pasture. It had been a long day for both of them, and she knew she, at least, was more than ready to go home and sleep for a few hours. Days. Months? Months sounded good.

 

"Wow, Netflix, you've eally let yourself go," Beca muttered as she was met face-to-screen with an ad for Fifty Shades of Grey. Had she seen it? Of fucking course. But was it for purposes other than irony? Hell. No. 

In its defense, it was a great watch if you needed to laugh and cringe at something to make the day a little better.

A tub of cookie dough ice cream and a spoon were her only companions for the night; not like she needed a bowl when she lived alone and her only visitors knew better than to touch her ice cream. That was one of her faovrite things about leaving the constant companionship of the Bella house. They'd taken "community property" as seriously as if they were married, and Beca never had ice cream to herself. It was her first house rule.

"Why have I finished all the good shows?" the producer grumbled, closing Netflix and just looking through cable for a time. She could only rewatch prison lesbians so many times until quoting every one of Red's lines stopped being impressive and just became annoying.

But Draco's? That was always cool. Harry Potter marathon it was, then. Though, by 'marathon' it meant 'half the series' because it was already twenty minutes into Goblet Of Fire, but whatever, Cedric's death was always a fun watch. 

Sarcasm.

She used a commercial break to throw on her super soft Gryffindor sweater and returned to flop rather unceremoniously onto the couch, where a rustling caught her attention.

"Shit!"

The note from Luisa. She'd forgotten all about the little thing crammed in her pocket, and she shot up to pull it out.

_Tiny Maus! Pieter tells me we are now barely five minutes apart. If you remain interested, my new number is 789-8265. I do hope to hear from you, mein liebe. xx_

Beca closed her eyes and took a long breath.  _It's just Luisa,_ she told herself, as if there were such a thing as 'JUST' Luisa. Her thoughts raced, but her hands apparently had minds of their own, already taking hold of her phone and sending off a brief message to the infamous blonde bombshell her easily-flustered and completely dorky summer camp friend-turned-romance had become.

**Me: Hey, this is Beca.. I got your note, I mean, obviously, but..**

The reply was all but instantanious, and the thought that Luisa had been awaiting her text was both endearing and a little nerve-wracking, and Beca couldn't decide if the latter was in a good way or not.

**789-8265: Maus! Hallo, I am glad you did. Did you return home safely?**

**Me: Oh, yeah, everything's fine.** She should really save Luisa's number.

**Luisa: Gut. You are so tiny, I was afraid your large truck might have swallowed you. Or perhaps the schnecke was too slow, maybe she'd tripped?**

**Me: I can literally HEAR you smirking. And we're texting.**

**Luisa: Nein schei **ße, Maus, it is what I do.****

If that was how she was going to play...

**Me: Right, I totally forgot. I thought you just ran out of the building when confronted about your 'secret' desire to kiss your new friends.**

**Katze: You promised we would not speak of that.**

**Me: Did I? Oops.**

A minute or so passed, leaving Beca admittedly a bit worried, but then her phone buzzed softly against her side where it had slid and jolted her from her thoughts.

**Katze: What are you watching? Are you aware of the wizardry taking place?**

**Me: Wow, you've become a nerd. 'Ja', Lu, I'm sitting here in Gryffindor gear trying not to cry over inevitable death.**

**Katze: Gryffindor? We may not make it.**

**Me: ????**

**Katze: ;) If you are curious, you may tell me your apartment address so I can show you why. Or you may request mine. Harry Potter is nothing one should cry for alone.**

Beca's eyes widened at that, and she was lying if she said her heart didn't speed up just slightly. Probably against her better judgement, she sent the blonde her address, and surprised herself by holding her breath until Luisa replied to confirm her arrival soon.

The night just got interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Schöne Deutsche- beautiful German  
> Gut- good  
> Schnecke- snail, and also hot chick apparently, thank you German friend for helping me out!  
> Nein scheiße- no shit


	7. Always The Rival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took forever, I did the entire thing with NOO motivation and I know, the beginning is pretty detail-less. I've been in this Becomissar rp (which is where their backstory comes from, fyi) and I was in the habit of that style.   
> SO.  
> Whaddya guys want? I've gotten amazing comments and a lot of really nice notes from you guys, let me know what you're looking for!   
> (If you're gonna say smut, don't worry, just be patient, good lord)  
> Comment here, or we can converse a bit if you wanna throw me a message on le tumbler (it's just viixiie :3 )  
> Help me out!

Even expecting it, the knock on Beca's door made her jump. She leapt off her couch and approached the door with an naxious scamper, only to find...

"You have GOT to be kidding."

Luisa stood at her door with her eyebrow raised, blonde hair falling totally straight over her shoulders and eyes ringed in smoke. The fishnet tights were back from Worlds, covered in leather shorts and heeled ankle boots, and possibly the worst of hot-as-hell button-down/tie combos Beca had ever seen.

"Really, I should have seen it coming, but.. You seemed like such a Gryffindor."

Luisa snorted, rolling her eyes. "That is horribly offensive. Now, I may have fangs, but while that does not make me a vampire, I humbly request an invitation inside before I barge in to your rather warm apartment." Her hard exterior seemed to physically melt away as she stepped inside, a bright smile gracing her features. "This all seems so familiar," she mused cheerfully, and it reminded Beca of a child- no, a puppy. Luisa was a puppy, just as much as Emily was. She was just a lot better at playing wolf.

"How do you figure?"

"It reminds me of all the times we snuck out at camp. Seeing the horses, singing together in the dead of night... Cheesecake." Something flashed in her eyes that made Beca blush, and the infuriating blonde smirked. "So after all of this, you are a Gryffindor? And I thought so highly of you." 

Beca raised her chin and smoothed down her sweater proudly.  _"Ja,_ you damn snake, I am. Funny how I'M the cat." 

"Ja, but do not think I have forgotten how much you used to enjoy my bites."

"Luisa!"

The room filled with warm laughter as Beca's childhood love threw her head back. "Mein liebe, how I have missed this. Our teasing. I deeply regret that it ever ended." Her smile turned sad, but only for a moment. "Do you have butterscotch? I can make us butterbeer. You have vodka, ja?"

Beca slowly shook her head. "Butterscotch, no, caramel, yes. And I don't drink.. Past experiences. Not my thing."

Luisa nodded instantly. "In my car, then, Maus, we are going to the store."

"What? But.. We'll miss-"

"I have them all. We can find our place and watch them without all the idiot advertisements. We cannot drink straight butterscotch."

Beca paused, making a face. "Y'know, we tested that at Barden. You're totally either misinformed, or trying to keep me from living my life."

Luisa raised an eyebrow. "That is vile."

"Probably. After you."

 

Beca learned that butterbeer actually WAS better with soda and cream, around the same time that Luisa learned she could literally never trust Beca's judgement again.

"So you are telling me," the blonde started, ver voiced slowed by her disbelief, "that not only do you like the hellacious cat plates, but you fully support the final act of that beast?"

Beca paused the movie and turned to face her guest. She couldn't deny it anymore. She was friends, and probably just about in love, with a madwoman. "You liked Snape??"

"Of course I did! Do! I always will!"

"He's creepy and abusive and selfish!"

"Show me one reason why he wouldn't be!"

"What's THAT supposed to mean?"

Luisa sighed, holding her face in her hands for a moment. "Maus, look. He didn't have his parents, as we can quite easily infer. Lilly was his only friend, and then Death Eaters, and of course they wouldn't accept him as he was, a friend of a mudblood. He needed friends in his house. What child does not try to conform at some point to be accepted? He knew no other way.

"What he did was not good, but it was all he had. And with the children, he did help in the end, nein? Harry grew stronger, he learned things the others didn't because of Severus. And Neville finally let go and reached his true potential. How else, without the bullying, was he to ever think that giving up the last he had of his parents would strengthen him?"

Beca took a minute to think it over,  her brow furrowing. "I'd never actually thought of that.. But I still don't like his attitude!" She sat back against the couch, arms crossed. "You come into MY house, in those AWFUL colors..." It was ridiculous. And she still wasn't sure how she hadn't seen it coming, of COURSE Luisa was a Slytherin. But she still refused to believe it.

Luisa rolled her eyes and took a long drink of her butterbeer, flopping back rather unceremoniously against the arm of the couch and nudging Beca's leg with her foot. "Play! It is almost over. Then I must know how you have been in the time we have been apart, ja?" The excited look on her face was absolutely adorable, and Beca couldn't not obey. The Aryan woman grinned, pleased, and let her head drop back against the lead-colored leather of the couch.

Beca found herself unable to fully focus on the movie. The thought of Luisa being HERE, in the States, permanently.. It echoed in her head like whispers in a cave. She found herself grinning at one point, with no knowledge of how long she had been doing so.

The music of the end credits finally drew her from her thoughts, and an idea struck her. Without a word, she stood, making her way into the kitchen, pulling various creams from her fridge.

"Maus?" God, could she get used to Luisa's drowsy voice in her house.

"Stay, mein schlange," Beca called back, grinning proudly at the hum of approval she heard in return. "I'll be back shortly."

Her 'shortly' was really about fifteen minutes, when she sat back on the couch with an innocent expression and refused to tell Luisa anything beyond "you'll see in a couple hours."

 

"Mein Gott.. Cheesecake! You have outdone yourself, Maus." Luisa's entire face was lit up as she took the plate from the Bella, thinking back on the late night sneak-outs from camp to make cheesecake at her and Pieter's home down the road. 

"Not JUST cheesecake.. Try it." Beca bit her lip and grinned, earning her a curious head-tilt as the taller woman took a bite. Her eyes flew open wide. "Butterbeer??"

"Yep!"

"Wunderbar!"

The two ate in companiable silence, a few times interrupted by a curious question about the other's lives or work or friends. Beca found herself smiling once more as she fell back into easy conversation with her old friend. This wasn't the terrifyingly confident vixen that was the Kommissar, or even the suave and sly character of Luisa. This was who Beca had loved back when she was fifteen; Tall, Blonde, and Gorgeous, for sure, but without the leather and mesh, without the smokey eyes and severe buns. Where it was still easy to make her blush and giggle. It was her Katze. 

And here Beca had thought the strong, self-assured Alpha of a woman had outgrown that part of her. Yet here she was, giggling away over cheesecake and wizards in Beca's little apartment. She didn't want the night to end. She never had. But this time, Luisa was here- hers, for good, if they so chose. 

"You look lost, liebling," Luisa mused, surprising Beca with the old nickname. "Are you alright?" She brought a hand to Beca's face, cupping her cheek, and the little Bella let her eyes fall closed as she leaned into the familiar touch. No one, not even Jesse, had ever made her feel so safe andl oved with one touch as Luisa could.

"Mein Katze.. Alles ist perfekt."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ja- yes  
> Mein liebe- my dear  
> Nein- no  
> Mein schlange- my snake  
> Mein Gott- my God  
> Wunderbar- wonderful  
> Liebling- darling/favorite  
> Mein Katze- my Cat  
> Alles ist perfekt- Everything is perfect
> 
> Let me know if any are wrong, pLEASE. I'm learning this as I go!

**Author's Note:**

> Einfrache, junge- Easy, boy  
> Lange nicht gesehen- Long time, no see.


End file.
